


Face Me to the West

by CN_Bury



Category: Red Dead Redemption (Video Games)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-20
Updated: 2020-07-24
Packaged: 2021-03-05 02:13:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,885
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25396702
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CN_Bury/pseuds/CN_Bury
Summary: He should have died. A bad man like him, despite a few good deeds, doesn't deserve a second shot. He isn't the one making that call, though, and against all odds, Arthur Morgan finds life has granted him one last chance. Can he finally make a life for himself he can be proud of?Or will the past refuse to let him go?[[ I plan on updating this once-a-week minimum, but there may be times I sneak an extra update in as well. I'm giving myself a deadline to make sure I keep making progress! ]]
Relationships: Arthur Morgan/Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 5
Kudos: 19





	1. Dead Man Walking

**Author's Note:**

> I've been a Red Dead fan for many years now, ever since the first time I played the first game. I still play that RDR1 and enjoy every moment. So when I heard there was another game coming out, and that it was a prequel, I was ecstatic. A couple of my friends and I purchased it on their console and, quite frankly, I spent far more time at their house playing the game and ignoring them than anything. No regrets--sorry, friends.
> 
> As I started the game, I couldn't wait to see John and I didn't know who this Arthur fellow was, but it didn't take long for me to realize just how quickly I was becoming attached to him. The more that was revealed, the harder it became to make myself play, because I knew what was going to happen--after all, something tragic had to happen to even cause the events of the first game.
> 
> I am a person who loves happy endings. The Red Dead Redemption games are not that. And I am fully okay with that--I wouldn't change them for the world.
> 
> So that is the beautiful thing about fanfiction. We can explore the different avenues for these characters we love so dearly without having to refute what is canon.
> 
> And this is my "what if" story. All the events of Red Dead Redemption 2 remain the same up until the mountain top showdown with Micah and Arthur is left for dead. It is here that I take a few liberties with the seriousness of his tuberculosis. TB was a devastating disease that killed thousands every year before a cure was found. It wasn't entirely impossible to survive, though. And I wanted to give Arthur a chance at a life I believe he truly yearned for towards the end. Even now, my heart breaks for Arthur Morgan.
> 
> I'm posting this mainly for me, as this is still very much a work in progress. I've never shared my writings before and thought, hey, maybe someone else would want to read this sort of story, too.
> 
> Thank you.

_“You’re in some pretty rough shape there, buddy,” came the heavenly voice in a hushed, soothing tone. “I’ll do my best to help you, but I can’t guarantee anything.” Cool hands rested on his face, though he didn’t have the strength to open his eyes to see. “Try to stay with me--don’t die on me just yet.”  
_

_But he wanted to, and though he tried to say as much, it only came out as a painful, hoarse breath that nearly sent him into a fit of coughing. He didn’t need to live--there was no point in it anymore. Everything...was gone. His life, blown apart like rocks and dynamite. He’d accomplished what he’d intended and now...now, he simply surrendered._

\--

She’d never seen someone this sick before, not in all her years of medicine. How he was even still alive was beyond her. Not only was he practically drowning in his own lungs, he had multiple gunshots and who knew what other injuries there were beneath his clothing. “Bella, help me get him into the wagon!” she called out, looking over her shoulder at the other woman still sitting in the driver’s seat, who raised her eyebrows but jumped down regardless.  


“He’s practically buzzard food, ya know,” Bella commented as she tugged her bandana up over her mouth, knowing she didn’t want to catch whatever this fool had. She was a bit of a stocky woman, her skin tanned from her many years out in the sun. Shooing her friend over, she crouched to slide her arms up underneath the man’s shoulders. “Grab his legs, Kat, and we’ll dump him in.” The first woman, Kat, did as told, and though they still struggled, the pair managed to get him into the back of the wagon. “You’re an idiot. A damn saint, but still an idiot.” Kat may have been an incredible medicine woman, but she wasn’t a miracle worker, and that’s what this man needed if he wanted to live.  


“Well, I can’t just leave him here--he’s in agony,” grumbled Kat from behind her own face covering, climbing up into the wagon as she was already going through her satchel. She knew it would be practically impossible to pull this man through, but she just couldn’t not try. It had never been her father’s way and it certainly wasn’t hers. “Just get us back to camp, quickly. I don’t like this area--too many of those hill people running about.”

\--

It had been nearly a week of constant care, but his fever finally broke. When she’d found his head of a normal temperature, she’d nearly cried in relief. He was by no means out of the woods--his lungs still sounded atrocious--but at least she didn’t have to worry about him burning internally to death. She had quarantined the tent he was in--no one other than her or Bella were allowed in, as they had both already been around him--and was keeping a close eye on themselves in case they were to develop symptoms. Tuberculosis--often called consumption--was highly contagious and she didn’t want to risk it spreading through their camp.  


It was also incredibly difficult to survive, but he was managing to do so. There wasn’t a cure, though--he’d have to do the hard work all on his own. The man had remained unconscious most of time, but he had occasionally opened his eyes and tried to speak, delirious from the fever. All she could do was try and keep him as comfortable as she could so he could fight it. Bella still questioned whether it was even worth the bother, but despite all her bluster, she still helped Kat out, whether it was delivering care or simply sitting with him. It was a tiring task, trying to keep a man from dying.  


Thank goodness for Iris’ stew, though--it could bring even the most tired of souls to life again and was managing to put a little more pep in her step. Bowl in hand, Kat made her rounds around the camp, checking on the women as they all settled in for the evening. All of the camp’s inhabitants were women--well, women and children. It was a sort of safe haven, started by Kat and Bella after their own troubles and open to other women that needed some sort of help. Some were escaping pain or abuse--others old and with no family to care for them. Well, their little gang here was a family in and of itself and they always took care of each other.  


As well as the occasional straggler. Bella had mentioned earlier while relieving her of sitting duty that a small family had happened upon the area, with barely two horses and hardly any supplies. They were alive, but the man had an injury that, naturally, Kat had been volunteered to look at. Not that she would have turned them away anyhow. Now that she had a little food in her belly, she made her way over towards the main campfire, where she could see the couple and their young son. The boy seemed to be about her own daughter’s age, perhaps a bit younger. Juniper was ten years old and as much of a spitfire as her mother, which was more often than not a curse more than a blessing. She often didn’t listen and bent the rules as much as she could without breaking them.  


Juniper herself was keeping the boy company while his parents ate their dinner, the girl’s intuition spot on--the couple looked exhausted. Making her way over, Kat raised a hand to the pair. “Well hello there. I’d heard you guys were around and finally managed to make my way over to introduce myself,” she greeted them, gesturing for them to remain sitting when they tried to stand. “No, please, rest. By the sounds of it, you need it.”  


“We can’t thank you enough for letting us share your fire like this. It’s...it’s been a rough few days,” the woman said, her voice strong despite her fatigue. “We left our home in a hurry and weren’t able to grab any supplies or cash. We’ll repay you in any way we can.”  


“Oh, don’t worry about repayment,” Kat dismissed with a wave of her hand, taking a seat on one of the chairs around the fire. “Losing one’s home is never easy and many of us have been there. You’re in good company here. My name’s Katherine, Katherine Jones. You can call me Kat. You probably met Bella earlier.”  


“We did,” the man spoke up in a gruff voice, having finished the hunk of bread he’d been served with his stew. “I’m John, and this is Abigail, and our son Jack.”  


Kat nodded to each of them, trying to contain her smile when she saw Juniper was showing off the pelt of the rabbit she had caught by herself last week. She returned her attention to the man. “I hear you’ve a bit of an injury that needs taken a look at.”  


“Oh, it’s not--”  


“Yes, he does,” Abigail interrupted him, giving him a sharp look that meant her husband had been about to write it off. “He took a bullet in the scuffle, in his arm.” She pushed on his good shoulder, turning him so Kat could easily see that there was a decent amount of blood soaked into the jacket he wore.  


“Well, we should certainly get you patched up. If you don’t mind doing so here--my medical tent is currently occupied,” she said as she stood, going over to the pair. John winced and groaned as the women helped him shrug off his coat and shirt, a grimace on his face as the dried blood stuck to and pulled at the wound. Looking over the injury, Kat whistled. “Lucky there--bullet went clean through and it doesn’t look like it’s festering any. You may yet stave off infection if you’ve gone this long with it as is.”  


She nearly missed John’s quiet, “He always did call me lucky,” but she certainly didn’t miss the flash of pain and sorrow that crossed both of them. Gunshots she could tend to but that was an emotional wound that wasn’t ready to be brought to light yet. Kat gestured for him to finish his stew as she went back towards her tent to grab her supply bag and a bottle of alcohol. It was a quick clean up and a couple of stitches with a bandage to keep him from moving it around too much. By the time she finished, the pure exhaustion of the three was clear, and she showed them towards Bella’s tent for them to stay in for the night. Eventually, she made her way towards her own bed roll, ready for a long night’s sleep.

\--

_He must be dead. He was being haunted, his past sins accusing him of all his failures. Dutch going mad and the gang tearing apart--he should have killed Micah when he had the chance. Let him hang when he’d been locked in that damn jail cell. But no...he had always followed orders. Right up until it killed him and destroyed what had been his family for twenty years.  
_

_Hosea…  
_

_Sean…  
_

_Lenny…  
_

_All he could be grateful for was that some made it out. John and Abigail, poor little Jack. He hoped the kid would have a chance at a real life--a life that had been taken from his own son Isaac. That had hurt far worse than the sickness that had been ravaging him those last few weeks. It was a long time ago, but the memories of everyone else’s deaths brought up his own past. May as well add the burning in his throat to his eternal torture. He’d known he was going to hell._

\--

Of course, it never does feel long enough, and her body always had refused to sleep past dawn. Waking up, she leaned over to tuck Juniper’s blanket tighter around the girl, feeling the morning chill even in their tent. She stayed for a moment longer, stroking her daughter’s fiery red hair, eternally grateful to have had the chance to be her mother. Dropping a swift kiss on her cheek, Kat finally rose to face the day and exited her tent, stretching and groaning as she did.  


The smell of freshly brewed coffee filled the air of the camp, a few people milling about with a cup in hand, gathering their energy. Over by the chuck wagon, Iris was already whipping up breakfast for them all. Despite her heavily pregnant state, she seemed completely unbothered by it, flitting about with more pep in her step than Kat ever felt. Most greetings in the morning were mumbles or simple nods of the head, especially before she had her first cup of coffee. As soon as the hot drink hit her taste buds, it warmed her straight down to her soul, chasing away the bite of the coolness in the air. When they’d first set their camp up in this spot, she’d found a quiet rock down by the shore of O’Creagh’s Run, the lake they were camped beside, and that’s where she went now.  


She loved the quiet forest around them, with the mountains keeping them safe and tucked away. It was a good spot--of course, Bella found all the good spots. Save for the occasional traveler, they weren’t spotted much here, and that would keep them safe. They had a lot of guns, but they never liked many people knowing where they were. A large group of only women usually attracted the kind of attention none of them wanted, so it was always best to keep their location hush. They’d been traveling for a few months before this, so the rest and relaxation of not needing to move was needed.  


And then they’d found the sick man. She and Bella had simply been doing some scouting, as they always did with new camps. They’d looked around, but hadn’t found any trace of those that may have caused his injuries or even who he was. He’d had practically nothing on him, save for a couple of guns and the clothes on his back. Which were, of course, gone now--she’d burned them, both because they were in a useless state of disrepair and because of the sickness he carried. They had spares, of course--he seemed about the right size to fit Iris’ late husband’s clothing.  


Now if he would just wake up. She was worried the severity of his fever may have affected him, despite her best efforts. She’d spent so much time consulting all of her father’s journals and books, trying to find the best ways to help him. She’d tried everything at least once; those that had been promising, twice. He’d need some luck on his side to get through it.  


She was finishing off her coffee when she heard the sound of footsteps, and glanced over her shoulder to see the woman from last night--Abigail, if she recalled correctly. The woman seemed to not have noticed Kat, and from the redness of her eyes, Kat figured she wasn’t wanting to be social anyway. Her heart went out to the woman and her family--it was difficult to get through your life imploding. She sat quietly, not wanting to startle Abigail, until her rear had gone numb and cold and camp chores were needing done.  


“Y’all can stay here as long as you need,” she said, pausing briefly to pass the handkerchief from her pocket to Abigail, who looked up and smiled gratefully. “It’s why we exist--for those who need us.”

\--

It was another few days before the small family had decided it was time for them to depart. They’d had a chance to gather some supplies for themselves and plan their next moves, so they headed out with all the best well-wishing from the little community. Over those days, the sick man had made improvements. They’d been small, at first--a little more time between coughing fits, easier sleeping--but it was steady progress. He’d woken, too, though he was unable to speak due to the sheer pain in his throat from the constant hacking. He wasn’t awake for very long--he could get down a few bites of broth before exhaustion sent him to sleep once more. She wasn’t overly concerned about it, though--the fever wasn’t back and he didn’t seem to be worsening. Kat would take any signs of wellness that she could.  


And while he didn’t need constant surveillance anymore, releasing Bella to do what she needed to do for the rest of the camp, Kat still tried to stay with him as much as she could. It certainly wasn’t idle time for her, as there were always medicines to make or research to read through. Her father had spent his entire life collecting his knowledge and learning as much as he could about the human body and how to repair it. He’d kept it all in detailed journals, which he had passed down to Kat when he died from his own illness when she was just a young girl. It hadn’t been quick, either--the once great, strong man wasted away into a mere shell of himself. Perhaps it was why she tried so hard on this dying man. She could see he had likely once been strong, able, and healthy and--  


“Where am I?”  


The croaked words shook her and Kat jumped to her feet, her heart in her throat as she whirled around to see the man’s eyes were open and directed at her. He could focus his attention now--good. “Jesus, you scared the daylights outta me,” she said with a slight laugh, tugging her bandana up over her mouth as she approached him, grabbing a canteen of water.  


“Sorry.” She could tell it still hurt him to speak, so she held the canteen to his mouth. He drank slowly, savoring the cool taste.  


“No need to be; that’s what I get for being in my own head.” When he finished, she set the drink aside, then raised a hand to feel his head. Normal warm, no fever, no chill. “You’re currently in my medicine tent within my camp. I found you a couple weeks ago practically dead.”  


“Should have left me.”  


“I don’t leave people behind. Even strangers.”  


“Well, thanks anyway. I really thought I was dead there.” His eyes had been closed for a moment, and when he opened them again to look at her, she was glad to see the striking blue of them was no longer dull from illness. “And just who might you be?”  


“Kat. Katherine, but don’t call me that. And you?”  


“Arthur. You can call me that.”  


She smirked, though it was hidden behind her mask. “Funny man, huh? Maybe I should have left you. Hold still.”

\--

He was alive. How in the hell that happened, he didn’t know. He could hardly believe it--that doctor in Saint Denis had pretty much given him a death sentence. What sort of miracle had this woman performed? He held still as she leaned forward and pressed her ear to his chest, staring at the roof of the tent over his head. When she sat back in her chair, she seemed satisfied, though he couldn’t entirely tell with half of her face covered. “So, am I gonna live, doc?”  


“Maybe. As long as you don’t relapse. So don’t overdo it.”  


He couldn’t even if he wanted to. Breathing was manageable, but that was all--even just the thought of sitting up sounded tiring. He let his eyes fall closed again, deciding it wasn’t worth the effort to keep them open. “You said you found me how long ago?”  


“Almost two weeks now.” There was a creak of a chair and rustling of pages as she returned to the desk he’d first seen her at. “You were caught up in a fever for most of that first week and have just been drifting in and out of it since.”  


Two weeks. What’s happened to everyone in that time? Did all the girls find somewhere safe to settle in? Where did Dutch and Micah go after that mountain top fiasco? And John...did he make it out alive? The Pinkertons had been right on them. Arthur could only hope his distraction had been enough.  


His next few days were full of thinking and impatient progress. More than once he’d been snapped at by his nurse that he was overdoing it and was forced back to bed, but damn it, he was going to get bed sores if he stayed down for much longer. Being able to sit up and feed himself had been nice, but finally getting on his feet again had felt even better. The change he felt was nothing short of incredible--he was breathing easier and wasn’t as prone to the debilitating coughing fits he’d been experiencing before. Make no mistake, he still felt like he’d been kicked by a mule or five, his muscles sore from being shot and misused. But he was starting to feel human again.  


At some point, his nurse--Kat--had ceased wearing the bandana around her face, saying he was past his contagious point, and she relented in letting him finally walk. Of course, it wasn’t without numerous warnings that he would still be recovering for months afterwards and could spiral back into sickness, but he’d take his chances for a bit of sunshine. Finding out the camp was made entirely of women had surprised him, to say the least. Even the children were all little girls. And any time he offered to help, they shoo’d him away, taking the orders from Kat very seriously. So he’d taken to spending most of his time with the horses, missing his beautiful mare and hating she’d been gunned down like that. She’d seen him through those awful days and had never wavered--he was at least thankful he was there for her during her last moments, comforting her. Kat had forbidden him from the saddle, but that didn’t mean he could brush their coats shining and sneak them more treats than necessary. Most of them were muscular work horses--a few Belgians, some shires--but there were a handful of riding horses milling about as well.  


For the most part, he was left on his own, which suited him fine. The solitude was welcome. His life had been such a whirlwind for the last few months that the quiet was a needed reprieve, not just for his body, but for his mind. The women were never hostile and certainly polite, but they kept their distance and conversations would pause as he walked by. He couldn’t blame them, of course, as he was the strange, long man within their haven and, more likely than not, they didn’t trust men.  


That didn’t mean he was entirely avoided, of course. He seemed to have picked up a second shadow at some point--usually, it was just a flash of red hair he saw ducking behind a rock, but he knew someone curious was out there. So when he briefly saw that same hair across the back of the horse he was grooming, hidden behind a tree, he had to fight to keep his smirk away. “You keeping an eye on me or something?” he asked loud enough to be heard.  


“Kinda. Mama keeps grumbling about you not listening,” came the reply that made him want to laugh. He settled for a smile--no need to risk coughing again. Finally, the owner of the fiery hair came forward, and he saw it was the young girl who seemed just a few years older than Jack. He’d seen her plenty around the campsite and had picked up that she was Kat’s daughter, though they certainly didn’t look alike. She had the same confident, sort of bossy attitude as her mother. Usually, he saw her playing with the other children if there weren’t chores to be done. And now that she’d been caught, she wasn’t the slightest bit shy about coming over. “You like horses.”  


“I do,” he answered, pulling a sugar cube from his pocket to give the palomino. The horse crunched on it with a soft nicker, her tail swishing. “Been around them my whole life. How about you?”  


“Mama says I was born in a saddle, though I think that’s a fib.” She came over to pat the mare’s nose, leaning their foreheads together. “This one’s mine. Her name is Daisy.”  


“Pretty name for a pretty horse. I hope you don’t mind my giving her attention.”  


“Nope. She’s a sucker for it.” She laughed, scratching at the horse’s ears as she looked up at him. “I’m Juniper. What’s your name?”  


“Arthur, Arthur Morgan. And your mother is Katherine?” She nodded. Juniper Jones--sounded like a name from a dime novel, the way it rolled off the tongue. “So, you been traveling like this a while?”  


“My whole life. We don’t really stay put for too long. Though, I think some of them are getting tired of it--they keep saying they want to head out west and settle on some land.” Juniper walked around to the other side of the mare, and with a big jump, she clambered up onto Daisy’s bare back. The stout horse barely budged and Arthur was impressed with her patience. She seemed a fine horse indeed. The girl settled in and got comfortable, simply content to sit up there. “You got a horse? Or a home?”  


Her question made him sigh, thinking back on all he’d lost. “Not anymore.”  


A frown crossed the child’s face for a moment. “Well, join ours, then,” she said, bouncing right back to her bubbly personality. It was infectious, as Arthur couldn’t help but smile a little.  


“I dunno, they don’t seem to like having a man around. You may need to vouch for me.” He leaned back against one of the rocks near them, crossing his arms over his chest. “Think they’d be willing to give me a chance? I promise, I’m kind of useful when I’m not sick.”  


The girl’s laughter was warm and bright. “Well, mister, I think we can show them that. You good with a gun?”

\--

“Mama, where’s the rifle at?”  


At her daughter’s question, Kat’s head jerked up from the potatoes she was peeling, her brows furrowing. “‘Scuse me? And what do you need that for?” The girl was bouncing over towards her. In tow behind her was the sick man, looking like he’d been dragged into another one of her daughter’s schemes.  


“Mister Arthur says he can show me how to properly track a rabbit! Besides, Iris said we needed some meat and my snares haven’t caught anything. Right, Iris?”  


“Don’t be pulling me into this, child,” the camp cook said quickly. “This is between you and your mom.” She glanced over at Kat, smiling apologetically. “But we are pretty much out of any fresh game.”  


Go figure. Kat rolled her eyes, setting aside her knife and dropping the spud she’d been working on. “And what makes you think Mister Arthur should be doing such a thing when he’s barely off his deathbed?” she asked, leveling them both with a pointed stare. And why did she think giving a stranger a gun was a good idea? The girl made little sense and foresight was not her forte.  


“Because he’s fine now. Please, mama? I haven’t gotten to shoot in a while.” Ah, there was the real reason. Bella’s love of firearms had rubbed off on the girl. “Besides, I’m the one doing all the work--he’ll just tell me what to do.”  


“I won’t be touching the gun at all,” Arthur offered, knowing the real reason behind the woman’s hesitation. He didn’t blame her--hell, if the position was reversed, he wouldn’t even be entertaining the idea of it. “I’ll just show her how to find the tracks and follow the signs. We’ll stay close--being this close to the lake, you don’t have to go far to find game trails.”  


She was quiet for a long moment, having pinched the bridge of her nose and turned her head skyward. This child would be the death of her someday, she just knew it. Finally, she rose to her feet with a dramatic sigh, and Juniper jumped in delight at her triumph. “Fine, but I’m coming, too.” She left them for a moment to go and grab the small caliber rifle they used for small game from their tent, holding it out to her daughter when she returned. “You remember how to properly hold it and use it, yes?”  


“Yep!” Thankfully, Juniper had always been good about handling weapons responsibly. She kept the end pointed away from any one and held it in the proper position. These were rules they had drilled into her head hard, wanting to make sure she was always safe with guns. Despite her age, she was a better shot with them than most of the adults in the camp. “Can we go now?” With a small nod and a gesture of the hand from her mother, the girl led the way through the camp towards the lake. She chatted with Arthur, a bit louder than necessary, and Kat glanced around to see they were getting curious looks. She bit back a grin; this was part of a plan, she could already tell. Poor Arthur was simply the target of that plan, whether he knew it or not. Her daughter was cunning as a fox.


	2. Time To Go

The hunting excursion had been a success in more than one way. Arthur was impressed by the skill the little girl had on the gun; she’d only shot when she was sure she would hit her target, each of her kills quick and clean. They’d managed to bag not only two rabbits, but a pheasant as well. Juniper had turned up her nose at the idea of cleaning them, but he’d been insistent that you clean what you kill, with her mother agreeing wholeheartedly. Something told him she’d been the one stuck cleaning them before. So he showed the girl how to do so the proper way without wasting any of the animal products. She’d been squeamish at first, but once she got over it, she’d been very diligent in her task. A brilliant and quick learner, he saw the pride her mother felt clear on her face.

The second triumph was one he’d not caught onto until he returned to camp--people were actually speaking with him now. Nothing too personal, but enough that it didn’t feel like he was intruding on their home any longer. Some congratulated him on feeling well again while others thanked him for keeping Juniper occupied for the afternoon as well as helping to provide some fresh food.

Of course, Nurse Kat was back, and she ordered he go lie down and rest for a while. As much as he’d wanted to protest, he had to admit--he was tired. His lack of any real energy was irritating and made him feel...well, awful. Impotent. May as well call him Uncle at this point. The thought brought another pain to his heart. As much shit as he’d given the old man, of course he’d cared about him and hoped he was doing okay wherever he was. He hoped they all were okay...except Micah, of course. He hoped the Pinkertons had caught and killed that damn rat.

His recovering health had apparently needed the midday rest, as he was fast asleep within moments of returning to his borrowed cot, not even taking the time to pull off his boots.

\--

With every passing day, he was becoming more accustomed to the little camp, and it seemed like all the ladies were growing used to his presence. He was learning a bit more about them each day, either through conversations with them or simply observation. There were fifteen in total between all ages, from the youngest at five years old, Hazel, to sweet, old Elsie, who refused to give away her true age. While Kat seemed to be the one most people turned to, he had learned there was two other women who helped keep things running smoothly--Bella, who had apparently been the other one helping him during the worst of his illness, and Amelia, who he didn’t meet until recently due to her having been gone into Annesburg to sell off some of the wares they made to earn cash. The atmosphere of the place reminded him so much of the gang in that it all felt like one big family--minus all the outlaws. Not including him, of course.

He couldn’t help but feel guilt for hiding that fact from them. They must not get into town very often, as no one seemed to know of Arthur Morgan, the wanted man with over a five thousand dollar bounty on his head. They simply knew Arthur Morgan, the sick man they’d found and were helping, even welcoming him into their fold. He hadn’t intentionally meant to hide it, but now, it just felt too late to fess up--and, if truth be told, he didn’t want them to know. This was his chance at finally getting away from all of that. He’d wanted to run away with Mary, but that bank fiasco and the subsequent time on Guarma had ruined any possibility of that. He’d known it was a fool’s dream, returning to her, but it still hurt.

But if he could just stay quiet and keep his head down low long enough, perhaps the past would let him go. He’d put so many years into that life. He didn’t want to waste what he had left now that he’d managed to evade death in the closest battle yet. He didn’t know how long he would stay with the group, but in the meantime, he was grateful to have so many around. They may not have been the group he’d run with for so many years, but the air around them felt lighter, brighter, and relaxed.

At least, it was until someone had spotted approaching riders. Strangers had a tendency to put all the women on edge. Hell, it put him on edge. But it was different for them--he could see how tense some of them became, the fear in many of their eyes. Arthur didn’t know their pasts, but he did know that fear--that fear of being on the run, hiding, scared of those that would bring you harm. It angered him, to see it on so many of them while he, too, was feeling those exact same emotions. And being so near to the lake, they saw a decent amount of strangers, but they were usually just stopping to refill their canteens and water their horses.

This time was different. Arthur could see the difference right away in the group of five riders that were approaching. These men were armed to the teeth and had a hard look about them that told him exactly what they were--bounty hunters. He’d run across more than enough to know them by even just a quick glimpse. As they approached the camp, Arthur reacted quickly, pulling the collar of his coat up and hunching his shoulders as he turned the other way and started towards the other side of the tents, doing his best to stay out of sight. He wasn’t the only one trying to stay out of sight--a few of the women did as well, grabbing the children and tucking them inside whatever tent was closest. The only two to step forward were Kat and Bella, who had moved to stand like a barrier between the oncoming riders and the rest of their family. These women had a backbone stronger than most men he’d ever known and he couldn’t help but admire them.

\--

They really needed to find a new spot. Beautiful and useful as the nearby lake was, it made for a high-traffic area and a lot of travelers coming through, seeing their camp’s location. Perhaps they’d start scouting and packing here soon, perhaps head further south or west. They didn’t want to be this far north when winter came setting in or else the roads would become impassable and they’d have to survive as best as they could in the cold.

This latest batch of travelers set off all sorts of alarms in her head, but she faced them with a friendly but cautious smile, glad for the sidearm on her hip. “Hello,” she greeted when they were near enough to hear her. They, too, were armed, and much more heavily than she or Bella. Earlier, she’d been hoping they would just pass on by, but it had become evident they had planned on coming over to speak.  
“Hello, ma’am,” said the man riding point, the others hanging back a bit. Good. “We just wanted to stop by and make sure we announced ourselves, as we didn’t want to startle anyone. We’re just taking a quick rest to get out bearings and water the horses.”

“That’s fine--it’s a free country. I appreciate the gesture.” She didn’t move from her position. “Where y’all headed?”

“Up towards Roanoke Ridge. We got some...business to take care of.”

Business. Right. She was sure they did. Jerking her head towards the other side of the lake, she said, “Road on the other side there. Take the left path once you hit the fork and it’ll spit you out right in the ridge.”

He was polite with a tip of his hat and gratitude, but the whole group still set her nerves on edge--especially the way the men behind him were all scanning over the area and the encampment, taking in the few faces that dared remain outside. She was certain several of the women had grabbed their guns, also aware of their wandering eyes. She and Bella remained on the outskirts of the camp until they saw the men were all settled in on the other side of the lake, the latter volunteering herself to take up watch to keep an eye on them until they had gone.

Going back towards the center of camp, Juniper came running over to her, and Kat knelt to hug her daughter tightly. The physical contact centered her again, calming her emotions as June rubbed her mother’s back. “Thanks, baby. Now go start packing up the extras in the tent--we’re likely leaving tomorrow,” Kat said as she got to her feet again. She proceeded to spread the message around, not wanting to shout it out just in case unwanted ears were listening. She finally managed to find their most recent guest in the medicine tent--she’d noticed the way he’d seemed to hide himself and couldn’t help but be curious about it. A bit suspicious, too, if she had to be honest. He must have already heard the news of leaving, as he was carefully putting away the different items around the tent.

Hearing her approach, Arthur glanced back over his shoulder and gave her a nod. “I figured I’d help out, considering you’ve let me stay here for so long,” he said.

She went and lowered herself down on the cot, resting her chin in her hand with an elbow on her knee. “And you’re still staying here. Well, here with us--our location will just be moving. You’re still not well enough to travel on your own. You wouldn’t make it more than two days before exhaustion got you,” she told him. “Not to call you out on that or anything. But, seriously, don’t waste my effort.”

He smirked, turning around to look at her as he leaned back on the desk, crossing his arms over his chest. “I understand. Much as I don’t want to admit it, you’re right.” She watched him intently--he seemed to have more to say, but must have decided against it. “So, do you have a place in mind?” When she didn’t answer immediately, he shuffled his feet a bit and cleared his throat. “What?”

“You really didn’t want to be seen by those men,” Kat noted, raising an eyebrow. “I know why some of the ladies here hide--you had a similar look to yourself.” She wasn’t going to press too hard on it, but she did want to make sure that she could trust him. The longer he stayed here, the more everyone seemed to pull him into friendship, and she didn’t want anyone here getting hurt. Especially since Juniper had taken to him so quickly. A quiet, tense atmosphere filled the tent as he averted his gaze down to his hands, which, she noticed, he was wringing slightly. She sighed, getting to her feet and taking a few steps towards him. “Hey, I’m not accusing you of anything here. I just want to make sure you’re alright and that it’s safe for you to stay with us, both for your sake as well as ours.”

He gave a small snort, bringing a hand up to pinch the bridge of his nose for a moment. “You sure don’t cut corners in getting to the point.”

“It benefits no one to do so.”

“No, no, it doesn’t.” He inhaled deeply, then released it slowly as he leveled his gaze with hers. She didn’t have to tip her head to be able to look at him--he was only a few inches taller than her. She’d always been a rather lengthy person, ever since she was a small girl. “Look, Kat, I’m...I’ve not led a good life. I’ve hurt people, robbed ‘em, lied and cheated. Most of them deserved it...but there were still plenty who didn’t. I’m not proud of who I’ve been.”

His nervous expression told her he’d been very uneasy about sharing this with her. After all, letting those skeletons out of the closet never felt good at the time. She nodded, then reached over, putting her hand on his arm. “A lot of us aren’t. Survival isn’t about pride, though. Did you ever kill for sport?” The look he gave her, he was practically offended. “Hurt women because you could?” The horror only grew worse. “Been cruel because it was fun?”

“God, no, none of that!”

She gave a small smile. “Then I didn’t hear anything there that deserves to be kicked outta here.”

“I’ve killed people. A lot. I am not a good man, Kat.”

Her hand pat his arm a few times before she turned to leave the tent. “I’ll be the judge of that. Just make sure you join us for dinner tonight.”

\--

That was worse than he’d thought it would be. He’d imagined all kinds of reactions he would receive at finally revealing even just a bit of his past, but...that hadn’t been one of them. He had been fully expecting to have to leave, not be told to make it to dinner. Once she left, Arthur lowered himself down into the chair, scrubbing his hands across his face. He’d tried to be honest without being too descriptive--he didn’t want to feel like he was lying anymore, but he also didn’t want to scare her or any of the others. He’d been a pariah many times over before. This wasn’t a place he wanted to feel like that again. Not here.

Besides, it wasn’t just her making the decisions around here. The camp was run by every person within it. Just because she may be okay with a rocky past doesn’t mean the others would be. The last thing he wanted to do was make any of them uncomfortable; they had opened their home and their hearts to him and didn’t deserve to feel like they were being taken advantage of.

And so, if any of them wanted him gone, then he would go. Hell, perhaps he should anyway. Those bounty hunters were a cold reminder that he was still a wanted man. That if the wrong people found him, they would destroy whatever lay between him and them to bring him in. He’d seen it happen--the Pinkertons had destroyed what was left of the Van der Linde gang, its members likely scattered everywhere. He refused to let it happen to these people.

He returned to his task of packing as his thoughts still ran. Everyone throughout the camp was putting away the nonessentials, leaving mostly only tents and bedrolls up for the night so they could quickly pack those away in the morning and move out. They worked like they had practiced this. For all he knew, they had. The entire place was nearly empty by the time the evening rolled around. His shadow returned--he could guess her mother had told her to find him. “We always have dinner around the fire and discuss the travel,” Juniper told him, skipping ahead of him with her usual bounce as she led the way towards dinner. Despite the unease he’d been feeling, the fae child and her sunny attitude all but dissipated the darkness. Reaching the central fire, he could see that he was the last one to join, which had only been slightly intentional on his part.

Now that he’d been spotted, though, he wasn’t getting away. Kat had noticed and waved the pair over, two plates of hot food waiting on the bench beside her. Juniper was already chatting excitedly as she took the spot between the pair and he simply listened intently to her, staying quiet among all the conversation around him. The familiarity of the setting brought an ache to his chest. How many nights had the gang spent together doing exactly this? Eating meals together, talking and laughing and singing?

“Make sure you eat it all--you’ll need your strength for the traveling,” he heard Kat say, glancing over to her. She eyed his food pointedly. “Pushing it around doesn’t put it in your stomach.” Such a mother hen. He smirked, making sure to shovel a large mouthful in, and only when he swallowed and went for another did she seem satisfied. “Good. So, we’re all thinking heading south-southwest, but we aren’t entirely certain where towards. There’s a lot of space out in the Heartlands, but honestly, we don’t want to be so exposed like that. We generally prefer having some sort of cover. Have you traveled much throughout the area?”

“A bit,” Arthur answered, thinking. “Out towards Valentine?” She nodded. “Well...I know one place. It’s a good bit further south from there, but it’s secluded and doesn’t have a major road running through it. It would be some extra travel, if y’all are okay with that.”

“The further from a town, the better,” piped up one of the women sitting on his other side. He recognized this one as Coraline, Amelia’s cousin. She’d been one of the ladies who had looked nearly terrified when those bounty hunters had shown up earlier, though she seemed completely at ease in his presence, which he was glad to see. “Too many curious cats and prying eyes near towns.” Several others chimed in with agreement.

“Perfect. Then we’ll have you lead us there once we get down in the area. Looks like you’re stuck with us for now, Arthur.” Kat’s tone carried more weight than her words, her honeyed eyes boring into his. He nodded, deciding to take another bite than answer. Her intuition was a little unnerving. And she knew it, too--the slow-spreading smile that she quickly tried to hide by lifting her beer bottle to her lips and taking a long drink. His eyes rolled, but he couldn’t help but feel relieved. This group--these ladies--they were comforting and supporting. It was something that had been severely lacking in the gang by the times things had turned for the worst and it was nice to have again.

\--

He never wanted to be woken by such a piercing scream again.

The shrill cry echoed throughout the camp, waking him so quickly he was automatically reaching for his gun, only to grasp at empty air. “Shit,” Arthur hissed, throwing himself off the cot and out of the tent.

It was chaos throughout the camp. Women were running, the children’s cries filling the air. The smell of smoke burned his nostrils and tried to choke his already fragile lungs. He jerked the collar of his shirt up and over his nose as he looked around frantically. He needed to help, he needed to--

The sound of gunshots chilled him. His feet instantly took off towards the lake, his eyes darting around. As he approached, he quickly ducked behind a box for cover, seeing the cause of it all. Those bounty hunters had returned--and, being held ransom, was poor Fawn, the soft-spoken girl who was the eldest of the children, on the cusp of womanhood. Her face was stained with tears and terror, sending his blood boiling. Who took a damn child hostage? He’d known those who had done so before--he’d felt no guilt in killing them.

“We know he’s here!” the man holding a gun to the poor girl’s head shouted out.

“Let her go!” Kat’s voice was rough, angered, barking out her words. She had a rifle to her shoulder, pointed directly at the man who had spoken. In turn, two of the other men had their own weapons trained on her, with Bella, Amelia, and another woman facing off with the remainder of the hunters. They were outnumbered, outgunned; if only he had a weapon of his own, he could--

He nearly jumped from his cover when he felt a tapping on his foot. Jerking his head down, he saw a freckled hand sticking out from under the edge of a tent, pushing a revolver towards his boot. “Get outta here, June,” he growled at the child, glad to hear the sound of her retreating steps as she listened. Good God, that girl needed to think ahead for once, but that was damn good timing.

The six chambers were loaded, but he had no spares--he’d have to make sure any shot he took counted. He really wished he’d listened more to Swanson’s actual sermons during his lucid moments because, well, he could certainly use a bit of divine help for this next part. All he had to go on was that the ladies were good shots.

“Over here, you bastards!” he shouted as he leapt out from his hiding place. Those few moments of surprise were all they’d needed.

He fired, his aim deadly as he opened a hole in the head of one of those pointing at Kat.

The others started turning their guns towards him before they even knew what had happened.

And more shots rang out as the chamber cycled, enabling him to fire a second shot.

Fawn had been shoved aside and she dove to the ground, trying to make herself as small as she could.

And the subsequent shootout was brief but bloody and, blessedly, in their favor. He had spent all six rounds of the revolver, glad to see his aim hadn’t suffered from not needing it for the last several weeks. His heart was hammering in his chest as he leaned against a nearby wagon, grimacing, but allowed himself only a moment as he surveyed the area.

Amelia and the other woman--Delilah, he finally recalled--ran over to Fawn, who was practically hysterical but unharmed physically. Bella still had her pistol raised, ready to finish off any of the men if they moved, and Kat was turning in place, taking in the area. “Get Fawn back with the others. See if anyone has injuries and put out any fires,” she said, immediately taking charge of the aftermath. The three hurried off, practically carrying the girl between them, and Arthur pushed off of the wagon to make his way towards her.

“Jesus, what a mess,” he grumbled, looking over the bodies of the bounty hunters. Their deaths had been quick--some of their heads were practically blown out, necks and chests shredded, with what was left of the blood in their veins oozing out onto the shore. “It’d probably be easiest to burn the bodies. Digging all them graves would take ages.” He looked over to Kat, who was staring at the gore before them. He noticed she was still gripping the rifle, holding on tight enough that her knuckles were white and her hands were tremoring. “Hey, Kat.” He carefully waved a hand in front of her gaze, blocking it just enough she seemed to snap to and turn her attention to him. “We probably want to move quick. If there’s anyone around, they definitely would have heard all that and may come investigating.” Slowly, she nodded, licking her lips and taking a breath.

Then promptly dropping to her knees, retching hard. His brows shot up in surprise. “Oh hell, Katherine,” Bella said, the woman quickly coming over to gather Kat’s dark hair up and away from her face, her free hand rubbing her back. “Arthur, would ya mind wetting this?” He nodded, taking the handkerchief she had pulled from her pocket and going over to the lake, taking care to not step in any of the pooling blood. He dipped it into the cool water and wrung it out, returning to the pair. He knelt down, taking the rifle she’d dropped and setting it aside as he pressed the cloth to her forehead. Her stomach had stopped throwing away its contents but she was still breathing heavily, her eyes closed, and she leaned into the cool rag. “Doesn't mind the blood of a man savaged by a cougar, but shooting a man clean is too much for ya."

“Maybe one day,” Kat finally spoke, her voice shaky.

“Let’s hope not,” Arthur said, placing the rag in her hand as she finally sat back on her heels. He’d seen people get sick after having to pull the trigger like that, ending a human life--and he’d seen them develop an immunity to being affected by it. He was one of them, of course. 

“C’mon now, get back to the rest and see what needs attending to. Check on June. Arthur and I will handle the clean up.” Bella pulled Kat up by the elbow, turning her and giving her a slight shove when the woman protested. The pair watched her compose herself as she disappeared into the tents and a heavy sigh came from the remaining lady, who then turned towards the dead. “She’ll do what she needs to do, but...she’s a healer, not a killer. Goes against her very nature.”

“Just hope the world doesn’t ruin her for it.” The world needed more souls like that one; there were already far too many hardened, cruel people in it. He swept his arm towards the bodies, looking over at his clean-up companion. “Well, shall we?”


End file.
